Our days are numbered
by xoVampiresxo
Summary: Bella was once blind, but after a cornea transplant, she is changed. Forever. How will she react with the numbers she sees above people's heads when she opens her eyes? What mischief - or pain - will happen after she isn't blind? R&R Rated T for fluff!
1. The past, present, and future?

**Okay, this story has been brewing in my head and I hope you guys enjoy it! :)  
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I wasn't worried, no, I was ready for this. I was finally going to be able to see. I was going to have sight.

I wandered my way through the loft with a walking stick as I tried to get to the bathroom. My eyes couldn't see anything and the lights were out of focus as I stepped into the familiar walls and echoing sounds of water dripping. Ah, the bathroom.

I sat down on the toilet, not actually needing to use it, but to think. I didn't know when I had started this habit...but it must have been something to do with the constant arguing my parents had when I was younger. Of how I was blind.

I was eighteen this coming September, it's been almost fourteen years since I was officially pronounced blind. I didn't know what'd happen. An accident or something, glass entering my eyes were involved and had stopped my sense of sight since then.

But tomorrow, I would have a cornea transplant - allowing me to see again.

Colours and seeing things were never a part of my life. I could only use the four remaining senses of a human. But tomorrow, that would be all over. I would see again.

I got up from the toilet and made my way back to my bed, tucking the bedspread over my shoulders and slipping into a deep slumber.

Brrnnngggg!

I shifted open my eyes, though they were useless and felt for the ringing alarm. I clicked the snooze button and the alarm rang the time.

8:00 Wednesday 23rd 2008.

I got up, finding my cane and made my way slowly to the bathroom to prepare. I slipped off my pajamas and got into the shower. The warm water eased the tension running through my body as I awaited for 9:30. My surgery for the cornea transplant was nearing and I was wrong about not being nervous. It was after all, a pretty big thing. I was finally going to see!

I smiled in content. I loved the smell of flowers, freesia as my favourite. The smell and taste of strawberries...their sweet and yet sour taste in my mouth was a delight, but they were all taste and smell. I was finally going to see them!

I'd repeatedly asked my mother how they look, but to actually see it would be something I'd be anticipating for without a doubt.

I reached for the towel on the rack and wrapped myself in it, simultaneously getting my walking cane as I made my out of the bathroom. The clothing in my closet felt so unfamiliar to me as I randomly picked out something to wear. I couldn't see what my mother had bought me, the clothing she'd constantly give me were unknown to me in looks. She kept blaming me, that it was her fault I was blind and tried making my life as easy as can be.

I never blamed anyone for this. It has given me things I would have taken for granted if I'd been like any other normal teenager.

My mother, once a alcoholic, was drunk one night. She'd been arguing with my father that night and he'd left, leaving my crying mother to feel the despair. That night, I could smell the gasoline...the smell of burning and then I went to the kitchen. I was only four at that time, but I knew my mother would die if I didn't try to save her. She was unconscious...unable to tell what was happening. So I kept dragging her, finding someway to get her out of the house. I was successful, I pulled her out of the door, closing the glass door that separated the kitchen and the entrance of the house, buying me sometime to toll my mother out of the house.

At that time, three things happened simultaneously.

I had successfully tolled my mother out of the house, but I was facing the wrong way - the kitchen and the glass door.

An explosion, I was guessing, from the gas, had sent the glass door to shatter, pieces were sent flying towards me. Several pieces got into my eyes.

And lastly, I was blinded instantaneously.

The past had been dark, something my mother and I would love to forget. She changed her ways - alcoholic ways - since then. Giving me everything I wanted, though there weren't many things I desired considering I was blinded, so I was limited to things. She always wanted to blame herself for my lost of sight, but I was happy. I had a loving mother from that accident and would have done the same thing if time had reversed itself.

The clicking of unlocking doors and high heels signaled the arrival of my mother, Renee.

"Honey! I'm here!" I sighed. Did she really think many people came through those doors?

"I'm in the bedroom." I quickly slipped on pair of jeans, rough to the touch and hard. I had finished putting on my bra when my mother's footsteps were nearing. I could hear a soft knock on the bedroom door before she entered.

"Hey mom." I smiled, in the direction of the door.

"Hello dear." I could hear the sound of her smiling as she helped me into a teeshirt and held onto my shoulders firmly.

"Oh look at you. How is my little girl handling things? Nervous?"

I shook my head from side to side, trying to seem confident. But my mother always read me like an open book.

"Don't worry. So am I." She kissed my forehead lightly and led me out of the bedroom, taking steps slowly for my sake.

"Well, let's get going then." She exhaled a deep breath and opened the door out of the loft for me.

We were at the hospital in a few minutes and my mom being the over sensitive one, got me into a wheelchair and we were wheeling into a hospital bedroom with a nurse informing me about the operation during the walk, or sitting for me. I chuckled at the stupid remark to myself.

"You will breathe in some sleeping gas and the operation will begin. The doctors will begin with slicing your existing cornea away from your sockets and irises, then they will replace it with the donated pair. The operation successful rate is very high so don't worry." I could feel the nurse pat my shoulders as I was wheeled into a room.

I slid into the bed with my mother's help and laid there, awaiting for the surgery.

My mother was rubbing circles on the palm of my hand, trying to soothe me. I could feel we were both really nervous for this and definitely anticipating such a thing.

After several minutes, an undetermined amount of people entered the room. I could hear from the shuffling sounds of robes that it must be more than two people.

"Hello Ms. Swan, are we ready for the surgery?" A hand, unbearably cold hand, marble smooth was holding onto my shoulder. His voice was very smooth, firm and strong, yet soft.

"Yes." I was as ready as I'll ever be.

"Very well." I could feel myself being lifted off the bed and rested on top of another one, wheeling towards the operation room no doubt.

A face mask, covering my nose and mouth was put on me. I could feel my eyelids beginning to droop and the sounds of machinery grow into a background sound.

"Now, Ms. Swan, can you count back from 10?" I nodded, not truly able to acknowledge her request seeing as I was already drifting off into unconsciousness.

I was incoherent to my thoughts and after saying 10, my counting was already a pointless mess of mumbling.

My mind was thinking of all the good things...the possibilities to having sight and it filled my mind with thoughts.

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It was an immeasurable amount of time as I heard sounds...people were speaking. I couldn't open my eyes, something soft like cotton was covering my eyes, I wanted to peel it off...I was trying.

"Bella!" The familiar voice of my mother.

"Oh mom! I'm so glad you're here." I was happily, the first person that I would want to see, or more of hear, was my mother.

"Don't try to peel that off honey. The doctors say you need it on for another few days." I sighed. That means I would have to stay blinded and in a hospital bed for another few days.

"Oh I got you some dinner, why don't you open your mouth and I'll feed you." I could smell pasta, the familiar smell of tomato sauce wafted into my nose as I opened my mouth.

Mhm. I was grateful for my mother as I hungrily ate. I didn't know just how long ago I ate before, but I guessed the surgery was the one positive thing that came out of the many hours I missed out on food.

"Well dear, I better let you rest. You're going to need it." She brushed away the stray locks of hair from my face as she planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Okay, goodnight mom."

"Goodnight Bella." I heard high heels and the close of the door, signaling my mother's departure.

I didn't know how long I'd just laid there, thinking. Nothing special or significant was running through my mind. I thought about the doctor a few time. His voice was remotely angelic and alluring. It sounded...comforting to the ears.

I was finally sleeping though, the unconsciousness was letting me slip into a long slumber.

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"Miss. Swan? Are we ready to begin unwrapping your eyes?" The same angelic voice, the doctor I was thinking of.

"Yes." I was hesitant. I was finally getting the thing I wanted, but it was still nervous. I could feel my hands clawing at the bedspread, finding something to distract my mind.

The bandages around my eyes were slowly unraveling. In mere seconds, the bandages were completely off and I was beginning to see things. It wasn't focused.

It was blurry, the things I saw. People were out of focus, like blots of colours, mysteriously painted into the background of my sight. Like someone had smudged out of vision as I tried to blink several times. Water was coming out uncontrollably, I still couldn't grasp at completely what I saw. The dim room, blinds pulled down and sealing away the sun I thought would have been there, made things harder to see. I could see, around the room were people, white blots and pale faces staring at me. I guessed the white blots would be doctor robes and hospital uniforms. But, what were those yellow numbering things running on top of the people's heads?

I tried focusing my eyes more, blinking even more and my eyes watering even more at the attempt. The yellow band of what looked like numbers were moving. They were counting or something. What were they? I looked at everyone.

Everyone in the room had numbers...except for the doctor. I blinked a few more times, straining to understand what I saw.

"Don't strain yourself, Miss. Swan. Let your eyes rest before trying too hard." I nodded, his voice was alluring and hypnotizing. I had to obey in a sense.

"Let's give Miss. Swan sometime to rest." He ushered the bunch of people out of the room, leaving me with my mother.

"Oh mom! I can't believe I can see!" I held her hand, squeezing it slightly. I could make out my mother's face. She looked older than before.

I continued to focus my eyes on the figure in front of me, holding my hand. Wrinkles were showing on either side of her eyes and her smile was bright. Her blue, sky-coloured eyes were beautiful. It was hard to understand and comprehend just how beautiful the world was, with sight. I turned my gaze up at the yellow band of numbers on top of her forehead. They were counting something.

"Oh, I shouldn't stay. You need your rest." She patted my hand with hers and pulled away.

"Okay, goodnight mom."

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**Okay, review me up guys! I think this is the story I'm going to continue onto, after "Work..." (it's been brewing inside of my mind, FORCING me to type it out with my hands and yeah! hope you guys enjoy!)**


	2. Bloodshot red eyes

**This story is threatening to type itself if I didn't. Nah, jking. But I couldn't wait to type it...the story...the plot! It's an angst type drama with MYSTERY and such. I love typing it up and such so...I hope you guys enjoy reading it too!**

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During the strenuous three days after the operation, many strange accidents and misunderstandings occurred.

When I meant strange, I really meant a whole new world I'd never been in and was somehow both scary...and yet invigorating. I was however, during the three days of hospital, able to make out the reasonings behind the yellow band of counting numbers on top of the people I saw. Everyone except for that pale skinned, blond doctor. Every assumption I had before didn't apply on him.

First, the counting numbers were actually the remaining span of someone's life.

The women who was living in the same care room as I was had a band too. One night, her numbers...they were getting smaller and smaller. Nothing made sense of what was happening, or what was to come out of it but I continued to watch. A dark figure, a shadow without a face hovered over her. It looked at me with the strangest, ghastliest expression. I was petrified with fascination, but also fear.

Then as her numbers hit 0, a paler version, a reincarnation of her, if it was, floated out of the body. It was something I'd never imagined possible to see. What was it that I saw?

I couldn't make out what the scene was but after I blinked, just for one second, the dark figure and the paler projection of that woman was gone. I was frantic.

_What _was that?

I got out of bed that night, trying to find out where they went. I went outside of the room and standing there, a few feet away from me, down the hall was that woman.

Her face was bland, expressionless. The same dark shadowy figure was swooping around her, guiding her down the hallway.

"Wait! Are you okay?" I called down the hallway, hoping for an answer. She looked back at me, her eyes were bloodshot red. Her face was distorted and then the dark figure saw me. It looked towards me. I knew at that moment, instinct told me to run but, I couldn't. My feet were planted on the ground and _it _was coming for me.

The dark figure came flying directly at me, and I couldn't move. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact of some supernatural force. Nothing.

I opened my eyes slowly, scared I would see it again. The hallway was empty, no one was in sight from both ends. What was it that I saw? Just a figment of my imagination from hearing too many ghost stories when I was younger?

The day after, nurses were clearing out the bed of that woman, changing the bedspread as I woke up.

"What happened to that woman?" Did this have something to do with the numbers I saw?

"She died last night." The nurse looked at me with a sympathetic smile and continued to change the bedspread.

So...that _thing _I saw last night, was it linked in some way? No, no...that's what I was imagining, probably just dreaming. A nightmare...a deja vu? What was it!?

I banished the idea out of my bed, not wanting to even think about it anymore. I couldn't.

I wanted to finally live a normal life, like everyone else who weren't blind like I was.

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The course of the three days, I examined the band of yellow numbers counting on everyone's head that passed by the room. I even tried running a hand through my mother's number, but it was like a hologram. It just slightly shook and then it continued to count.

"Over here sweetheart." My mother smiled and took the hand I had on top of her head, holding it against her face. Did she think I wasn't quite as coordinated with my hands and legs by now? It might be true but, I was still able to know well enough that I hadn't been aiming to touch my mother's face.

"Mother?" I looked up at her face, examining the soft features I had forgotten from a time, long ago.

Her hair was a darker brown than I was, her eyes were a deep chestnut brown and shined with her spontaneous attitude in life. Silly Renee. After that accident, she began to embrace life more. She did bungee jumping, sky diving...things she would never have done before. As for me? I grew up being the responsible one.

I was the one who tried talking her out of the more crazier ideas, and watched the ones I couldn't stop, no pun intended. Of course, I couldn't see her do those things but she would describe it to me. The thrill and rush of adrenaline, pumping strong in her system as she did all her lunatic stunts. I would laugh whenever she confessed she had went to the washroom - during some of the things she did.

Silly, silly Renee. I sighed as I took in her face, trying to remember how she had looked when I was four and how she looked now. It was hard, piecing back the images I had of her, and how she looked now.

"Yes Bella?" Her eyes were lit with pride, or a positive emotion. I was just getting used to how people look, deciphering the emotions that played across someone's face. It was like guessing, words to match the pictures.

"Do you see something on top of my head?" I pulled my brows together, trying to glance up at my forehead or beyond that. Nothing.

"Nope. I don't see anything out of place, why?" I nodded. So did everyone just ignore the numbers? Was I just new to this life, a life with sight? Things were beginning to become weirder and weirder as the days progressed.

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"Okay, Miss. Bella, try not to strain your eyes too much. Continue to wear your sunglasses for another few weeks when you're outside. The sun can be painful and strainful for your eyes. Also, try to rest more, don't do any activities that require a lot of focus for your eyes like computer work or reading. Look at things from afar, preferably something green like trees out a window when you feel your sight is blurring or losing focus. It will be fine after a few days and I'll see you next week for a check-up, okay?"

The doctor seemed to have said that all in one breath, not having an intake of air the whole time. Was that humanly possible? His blond hair was pulled back from his face, revealing flawless skin, pale and smooth. His eyes were a soft ocher colour, golden like the sunset that casted into the hospital room. His features were chiseled from Michelangelo, perfect in every way. Of course, I never got to _see _any of his pieces of work but, my mother would tell me how much detail and hard work was put into sculpting _David_ and how handsome he would have looked if he were human. I laughed at myself, seeing a fairy tale prince in front of me.

The hardest thing to understand however was, why didn't he have a band of yellow numbers that counted down his lifespan? Did it only count for some people and not for others? Did it have another significant meaning or some sort?

I left the hospital slowly, taking time to examine everyone in the hospital. Everyone had a band of numbers over their heads. It continued to count and count as I walked by. Do normal people truly not notice these things? I couldn't quite comprehend what had happened though. Maybe I was just having side effects from the operations. I shrugged and left the hospital.

The idea of seeing people with numbers never left me once. When my mother and I drove throughout the city, letting me marvel at the splendors of Port Angeles, I could still manage to see the numbers. Everyone had it.

"So, Bella. I've enrolled you into Forks High." I looked at my mother, flabbergasted.

"Why?" I could feel my forehead crease and eyebrows pull together.

"Well, you can see now! That's one thing why you should be going to a normal school now. You don't need anymore tutors." She patted my hand, not ever taking her eyes off the road.

I nodded, my mood was too buoyant for anything to ruin it, not even the numbers on people's head. I was finally going to live a normal life. People would see me as an equal, not a disabled person who can't do anything right. I was euphoric of the idea, but also intimidated. I never actually interacted with many people.

I was home schooled, tutors came to me and taught me everything. How was I going to be able to match pictures with words? I felt like a five year old, getting to know the world through pictures and simple words. As a seventeen year old girl, I had all the words known, but pictures? That was a totally different thing.

"Well, we're there. Do you want me to come up as well, honey?" She looked at me with earnest eyes and a smile.

"Um, no I'm okay." I patted her hand and left the car, with some amount of trouble. I entered the elevator and slowly ascended to the fifth floor. One thing was for sure, I no longer needed to memorize where each floor and their button was. Nor did I have to glide my hand over the dots that protruded out.

I got out of the elevator, still somewhat amazed at how beautiful the world was with vision. Everything was new to me, even if my age didn't match the amount of interest and fascination I had for this world.

The keys I usually fumbled with and coordinated through touch was much easier, having a sense of where the lock was. I unlocked the door in the fastest time I had ever could believe possible for myself and entered the loft. For the first time in my life, I was able to get a sense of how it looked. I usually imagined it, in my mind from the touch and description my mother told me about my loft - but seeing it was a whole new perspective.

I gasped at the sight, holding back tears. Why was I crying? I was grateful. Grateful of my life. I took nothing for granted and blamed no one for the blindness I endured for years. I made my way, still staggering, into my bedroom. The walls of a creamy beige welcomed me and I quickly took my usual place on the bed.

Brushing away the tears, I took out a change of clothing and headed for the shower.

Only a few days ago, I was in this same shower, oblivious as to what I truly doing. Sure, I was using the shower, and everything functioned, but I was blind.

Now, I could see. I could finally see things.

The warm water eased away the built up pressure I was feeling. Questions flooded into my mind, jabbing their mark in my head so I'd answer them.

Why did people seem to not care about the numbers counting over their head? Was it just me who actually cared? Because I was new to this world? A world with vision?

And what about the doctor? Inhumanly beautiful, but numberless. Why did only he not have numbers?

I shook my head, ignoring the stream of endless questions I had and would find someone to answer. Somehow.

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**Review me up guys! This story seems to be pretty well received in a sense...so I'm PROBABLY going to continue onto this story after my other one...**


	3. Charlie

**Okay I was sorta not expecting myself to write about THIS story, but then I suddenly had a whole new expanded plot line for this...but then there's a ton of flaws in it so I kinda need some help. Anyone wanna suggest some ideas to me? Please message me about it (so people don't read it!) But don't forget to review - it keeps me going. Like, you know how cars have gas for fuel? Well, reviews is what keeps me writing. I've been short of reviews, so that's why I don't write as much. A consequence don't you think?**

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The sun woke me up, something I would never have imagined. It was so beautiful - the brightness illuminating and providing natural light throughout my room. I yawned and stretched my limbs, feeling the bed sheets and looking at everything in great detail on purpose. The first night at my loft with vision was so different from what it'd been like when I couldn't see a single thing. The sun wasn't there to welcome me into day, my alarm clock did. It felt so surreal for me, like dreaming when I'd just woken up.

I took the steps I'd taken for so long into the bathroom and showered, noticing the evaporating steam, the beads of water, the spray of the shower...everything. After deeming myself cleaned and ready, I got ready and waited for my mom. She was always picking me up in the morning to go to my tutor or anywhere she's planned since I wasn't quite able to do that. It'd been a year since this routine started, when I suggested moving out of my mom's house to live on my own - to develop independence and to understand the remaining four senses I had. But now, with all five senses, would I still need my mom to drive me around to everywhere?

"Honey! Where are you?" My mother's voice rang into the loft.

"In the kitchen!" I called in response, waiting for her to come in. I was busily making myself a piece of toast and finding a jar of jam when she stepped in. Her hair was tied back, a flight ticket in hand.

"Oh Bella, I didn't want to leave you yet but Phil's got a new job! We're going to California!" She squealed but it stopped momentarily when she looked at me, remembering the fact that I'd just regained my vision.

"Well that's great mom, really." I tried comforting her, as always. I half hoped we could have spent some time together, with me not blind and whatnot, but I guess there wasn't anything I could do. Renee had much more pressing matters to do than to take care of someone who could have done it by themselves.

"I'm so sorry Bella. I really wanted to spend time with you...but that's also the reason why I had enrolled you to Forks. Now you can move to Charlie's for the time being. I'm really sorry Bella..." My mother began apologetically. I knew it wasn't her fault - I'd been her burden for too many years to make her guilty. She had taken care of me, placing me as priority over Phil and her love life...but now it was time for her to relieve those duties.

"It's fine mom. Seriously, have fun and just go. It'll be great catching up with dad anyways, right?" I suggested with a meek smile.

"Well, we better start packing. Charlie has a house there and you'll probably have to stay there for a year or so." She was very giddy, a smile plastered permanently on her face. It was heartwarming to see her smile - something I never saw until now.

"Okay. Could you help me get my clothing? I'll get whatever else I need." Placing my toast down, I went into the bathroom to retrieve my personal items. There weren't a lot of things that I wore on my face or body in terms of lotions and potions besides the occasional moisturizer or lip balm. I'd always been oblivious to my appearance and make-up wasn't something I had to worry about.

So in the end, even with my necessities and clothing packed, it was compressed into one suitcase.

"Shall we begin our trip from Seattle to Forks?" My mother asked, dragging the suitcase along while I finished up the toast and washed the dish. It would be a whole month before I returned to this loft or see my mother, and to say the least, I kind of missed it.

The ride from Seattle to Forks was fairly short, an hour or so, filled with mindless chatting and random topics. From my perception of the world and the wonders, to how excited my mother is. I actually felt excited, but anxious as well, to see Charlie. So many summers I've lived with Charlie for a few weeks, letting my mother have her share of life. Going to him now, when I can see - it was almost intimidating. The image I had of Charlie was very vague - brown curly hair, blue eyes, and the ever so slight wrinkles near his eyes when he smiled.

"We're here!" Renee announced, pulling over in front of a house with a cruiser parked beside it. It was plain and subtle, freshly painted white. The door was opened with a man standing there. He was smiling and waving at us while we got out of the car. As we approached, my stomach started churning, seeing my father. He and my mother both blamed each other for my blindness, but now that he saw me all normal and healthy - maybe it won't be regret in his tone when he speaks with me?

"Hey kiddo!" Charlie called, coming up to me and giving me a strong, fatherly hug. I could even see a twinkle in his eye - a tear possibly?

"Hi dad!" I was never comfortable calling him dad - I referred to him as Charlie when I was away from his vicinity. It just felt odd for me.

"How's my little baby doing? How does the world look now?" It was a tear of happiness I saw at the corner of his eye. A large grin spread from ear to ear as he looked at me, blue eyes sparkling with joy.

"Very good actually," I said, sighing to memorize his face. He had a few more wrinkles here and there, the once very thick brown locks were thinner and signs of a receeding hairline. But other than that, nothing had changed.

"Let's get your bags up there and see how you like your room." Charlie waved at Renee and ushered us in, carrying the one suitcase I had up the stairs while my mother got us some tea from the kitchen.

Stepping into the house, I was quickly adjusting to the environment. Couches, a television, kitchen, stairs leading up to the rooms...everything screamed home. So this was where I would be living for a whole year it seems. I took a final look around the ground level and excused myself to go up to my room. My life in Forks was about to start truthfully, tomorrow.

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**Again, please review if you haven't already, it's greatly appreciated!**

**Well, Gossip boy is out...xoxoxo (I kinda don't like Gossip Girl as much now, the people she's spotlighting is mean so I need a new tv personnel to spoof. Any suggestions?)**

P.S. I like the xoxoxo and Gossip boy...maybe I'll just skip the introduction and keep that part, haha :D

**REVIEW PLEASE!!!  
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	4. Him

**Okay I'm back again! Yay!**

**It's been so long and yeah I'm sorry I haven't posted for so long! But I hope this chapter will get your blood pumping. I'll just let you read first...**

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The water splattered against my bare skin as steam filled the washroom. My eyes were tired in a sense, being too absorbed in everything that it didn't get the sufficient blinks a normal person would give it. I was both excited and nervous about school. Today would be my first experience interacting with people - people that would see me as an equal, not a disabled girl. My mind was contemplating on several things. Would I be happy to leave behind those walls I've built around my life for new people to enter into my life? I was content with my parents, Phil, and the tutors...but was it time?

I shut off the shower, along with all anxious thoughts and dried off. Pulling a sweater and jeans ensemble together, I clambered down the stairs, still unadjusted with my visual perception. Clanking of plates and utensils were echoed into my ears when I arrived downstairs. I peered into the kitchen to find Charlie lifting a rather burnt toast out of the toaster. He was finished frying an egg - also more brown than white.

"Good morning!" He said with a cheerful voice, gesturing for me to sit. I sat down and watched Charlie fumble with the hot "breakfast" and waited.

"Do you need help?" I suggested, standing up.

"No no! Let me prepare this meal. It's your first day at school!" Charlie placed down two platters of...well, I wouldn't say it was edible food really. The bacon was shriveled and burnt, looking like jerky than anything. The egg, as I'd seen it, was supposedly sunny side up, but all I saw was the yolk spill out everywhere. The toast was okay, if cutting off more than a half of it counted. I gulped, staring at the plate and hoping Charlie didn't expect me to eat that.

"Umm, dad, do you want me to cook our meals?" I looked up and watched him poke his own food. He seemed rather disgusted with his cooking too.

"I'm so sorry kiddo. I usually go to the local diner for food...I just thought I'd cook something for you on the first day...like a surprise?" He was so unsure of how to explain himself, it turned into a question.

"Dad, really, it's fine. I can whip us something up right now if you want?" He stood up and shook his head, taking our plates and emptying it into the trash can.

"No, let's go to the diner. I can drive you to school after it anyways. Come on."

In such a small town, the businesses were scarce. There were only two "eat-out" restaurants in Forks. One of them was a fancy restaurant with overpriced food and the other was a retro-styled drive-in diner. It had all the red-hot coloured booths and stools that lined the counters. The authenticity was amazing, including a working jukebox too. The only problem was I had been hoping for the ladies in shocking pink outfits to serve us with bubble gum in their mouths and messy, piled up hair. It was just an average place with the caterers wearing black pants and a white dress shirt. Oh well, I had read enough books about the world to have a vision of it anyways. I always had a picture in my mind when I was blind, something to keep myself preoccupied.

My brain seemed so protective of everything else in the world, it blocked out the sadness and depressing factors in life and only happiness was shown for myself. If I didn't know better, I'd think my brain worked differently...but I had too little social contacts with anyone, and that gave me little to no evidence of what my brain did and how someone that's disabled would use it. They say when one of your senses fail, the others would pick up the slack and work even harder. I always had better smell and hearing than my mother. I wonder what it'd feel like now that I'm completely able and normal?

My breakfast came in the form of a good old American styled platter. With eggs, sausages, toast and bacon. Charlie had already scarfed his down while I was slowly piecing mine together in an artistic manner I thought would look more appetizing. I never really got to know the true way food looked. I always had to substitute it with my imagination, with how it felt, how it tasted, how it would look with the description my mother gave me. The egg was usually round, the sausages a cylinder, the bacon a shrivelled up piece of fat...everything was described to me.

Seeing it, I couldn't even bare to eat it. It felt like I would swallow up a piece of the imagination I used to visualize everything.

"Not hungry, Bells?" Charlie asked, looking at me as he picked up his glass of orange juice. He downed that in seconds too.

"Just nerves I think." I replied, taking a bite out of the toast. I didn't quite feel like eating and I guess the nerves really had something to do with it.

"Well, let's get started, are you going to finish that?"

I smiled and slid my plate towards Charlie with what I hadn't ate, which happened to be a lot. I only ate the toast a small selections of the other breakfast items. He consumed them in a matter of seconds, gulping down a new glass of orange juice and ordering for the bill. We were out of the diner and driving slowly to Forks High when I noted a blur of white in my peripheral vision. It was like a streak of white light that disappeared as quickly as it passed, not even giving me a chance to blink and wonder at what it was.

It must have been my eyes, I comforted myself, relaxing my body into the leather seats while trying to hide my face. I could see people's stares when the police cruiser pulled into the parking lot.

Little numbers on people's heads were floating around still, as it should have been. I guess it was normal for me to see them...shouldn't it? My worries weren't really about silly holographic arithmetic on top of my head as much as it is about how I would leave Charlie's cruiser undetected. It would be hard, seeing as every eye in the parking lot was already staring at the car...and who was in the passenger seat. Charlie must have told everyone that his little girl would be coming to school here...

"Good luck." We were both not very verbose and saying anything that would show emotions was...rather awkward. I nodded and opened the door to greet a strong breeze. I tried to ignore the eyes but, it was kind of hard. They just...stared.

I walked towards the main office, to follow up in the procedures Charlie told me about, and decided to look at the cars to divert anymore attention away from me...I mean, it's bad to stare back at someone who's staring at you, right? They were mainly pretty old cars with dents and scratches here and there. One car did stand out, a silver one that looked new and fresh off the manufacturing press. It almost hurt my eyes looking at how bright it was.

Arriving at Building 3, which was also the office, I opened the door and stepped into the warm, potted plant-infested room. It was cozy with a row of armchairs facing the reception desk, with three ladies sitting down, chatting. I walked up to one of them, a red head with laugh marks, and introduced myself.

"Hello, I'm Isabella Swan."

"Oh! Welcome Isabella!" That got the other two's attentions, as they looked up at me, smiling and probably thinking of some gossip during lunch with all the teachers. I didn't know how to read people's faces, but they were definitely the kind who'd need a good topic to linger on for office hour boredom.

"Well, here's your schedule...and this is the map of the school. Now I've used different coloured highlighters to route out which way is the quickest. This sheet needs to be signed by your teachers and returned today afterschool. Enjoy your day Isabella."

I thanked them and began making my way to first period: English.

"...Now can anyone explain the inductions of a foreshadowing in which Tybalt would kill Mercutio, and thus making Romeo kill Tybalt?" As I knocked softly on the door, I quickly regretted getting so much attention. A whole class of students quickly looked up at me, even those that seemed to have been day dreaming.

"Hello. You must be Isabella Swan, correct?" I nodded and stepped up to him, handing him the sheet the woman wanted me to sign. He smiled, gave me a course package and copy of Romeo and Juliet before sending me to the back of the room. I was relieved to get the back seat, considering it would limit the chances of someone staring at me. Boy, was I wrong when I noticed how people would sneak a peek at me, however obvious it was.

I looked down at the sheets of paper Mr. Varner had handed me, making a mental checklist of which novels I had to re-read and which ones I may have needed to read more on. William Shakespeare, Jane Austen...they were all books and plays I've read and owned. Afraid to look up, I opened up Romeo and Juliet to the Act 1 Scene 1 and read unenthusiastically.

When the bell rang, I picked up my belongings and proceeded to my next class. Needing the time to memorize the school's layout, I finally arrived in my second period math. I felt fairly good in class, as I was once again allowed to sit in the back and not be forced to introduce myself to everyone else. During the homework period, a cute, baby-faced boy came up to me. His pale blond hair was spiked up in perfectly designated angles and was smiling.

"So...you're Isabella Swan?" He asked with uncertainty, it almost made me feel as though if he didn't want to talk to me.

"Yes, but I prefer Bella." He apologized and continued on with other inquiries.

"Do you like it here? I heard you're from Phoenix? But then you don't look at all tanned..." He gave me a questioning look, like he was inspecting how alabaster white my skin was.

I grimaced at how little I made contact with the outside world. "My mom's half albino."

Just as I answered, the loud sounds of the bell rang. When I finally finished packing up and leaving, Mike walked up behind me and proceeded with his questions. Thank God I didn't have to supply the talking, considering it was new to me, being so isolated from the outside world for so long. It seemed like it was just yesterday that I would stay at home or walk to the library occasionally for a book.

"What class do you have next?" Mike broke my little daydreaming with a question I couldn't ignore. I scrutinized the visual image I had of my schedule to remember.

"Math, it seems." I replied, taking a turn towards my math class.

"Oh, well I'll walk you there. Mine's next door...Spanish." He made a shivering gesture and smiled as he stopped in front of a classroom. "Well, we're here. I'll see you around then. Bye!"

I hurried into the classroom before the bell rang and gave the teacher my sheet. He gave me a seat to sit beside a rather talkative girl with sandy-blond hair. She was sneaking a few looks at me before finally engaging me to talk after the trigonometry lecture Mr. Brown gave us.

"So, are you Isabella Swan?" I groaned internally and nodded, smiling slightly.

"But I prefer Bella."

"Oh, well hello. My name's Jessica Stanley and welcome to Forks!" She held out her hand and smiled with an angelic smile, obviously delighted to begin unlocking the mysteries of the 'new girl'.

When the bell finally rang, Jessica had supplied me with a lot of school gossip, weather report, clothing choices and everything in between. I was grateful she supplied most of the talking.

As we walked down the hallway, I could notice all eyes being on me. Isabella Swan, the new girl. The daughter of respected officer, Charlie Swan. It seemed just like yesterday when I was never in the spotlight - just another blind girl in the big city where no one cared who you are.

Leading me to her table of friends after picking out our lunches, Jessica plopped down into her seat and pulled up one for me.

"Bella, this is Eric, Angela, Ben, and Laura. Eric, Angela, Ben and Laura, this is Bella." They all greeted me and continued eating their lunches nonchalantly while I tried to mentally remember their names. I gave up after a few more attempts and nibbled on my lunch quietly. I looked up occasionally, seeing the quick glances everyone gave me. I knew they were trying hard not to gawk at me. I felt like just saying 'Go ahead! Stare at me!'

There were a lot of students in the cafeteria when I finally finished the last bite of my lunch. Accompanying the faces of the students were the odd band of gold numbers on top of their heads. Having been ignoring it for so long, it slightly intrigued me once again to try and understand what they meant. I was no where near deciphering it until I saw a group of students get up out of their seats.

The biggest, most muscular of the bunch caught my eyes easily, with his tall and huge frame. Wrapping her slender arms around his thick bands of muscles was a gorgeous blonde, one that would make Aphrodite feel ashamed of herself. Another couple was behind them, a peculiar black-haired pixie-like girl who only reached up to her much taller, blonde boyfriend.

My attention however, was emphasized mainly on the boy that followed them. He was handsome. His skin was alabaster white, as with his other friends and their strange statuesque beauty. The strong jawline, a straight nose, shimmering bronze coloured hair...everything paled in comparison however, when I saw his eyes. They were shockingly black, with a thick frame of lashes that could be visible from across the cafeteria.

Then my breath caught on the way out.

It was then, that I finally realized why they had caught my attention. They didn't have numbers.

* * *

**Yes. I'm leaving you in a cliffhanger. Haha, I'm famous for 'em, aren't I?**

**Well, remember to leave me a review and give me actual critique. I got a few from two people that said my other story - 'Work is a positive thing' has crappy writing and an unoriginal plot. And guess what? I actually liked reading those reviews. Lest I know people care about what I write...though that was when I didn't even care what I typed about.**

**Ironically, I never cared for what I typed about in 'Work is a positive thing' cause it was just my fun time to write about things that I wished would happen in my life in a sense. But oh well. **

**ANYWAYS, REVIEW PLEASE!**


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